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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275279">Through Thick and Thin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penspot/pseuds/Penspot'>Penspot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dream Smp, Family Dynamics, Hybrid Technoblade, No Beta We Die Like Henry, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, i can't get enough of the sleepy bois family so i'm writing my own</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penspot/pseuds/Penspot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow the story of Philza Minecraft and how he adopts three boys and watches their family grow and be torn asunder. This is a narrative reworking of the Sleepy Bois Inc family and the Dream SMP roleplay. w</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Phil Watson &amp; Dave| Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit, TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Through Thick and Thin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Philza was content with his life. Running through different worlds, some when it was an effort to survive, and others where building was his bread and butter, there were constants in his life that he grew to appreciate. At the moment, he was content on a homestead he had built far from anyone else and was out chopping trees to add to his barn.</p><p>He had just finished breaking down the rest of an oak tree with his iron ax when something shuffled in the bushes nearby. Immediately switching from his ax to a sword, Phil stood ready on high alert. He grunted with exasperation as the bush rustled again. It’s not like he was doing anything super time-sensitive but having to face off a mob was not really something he wanted to do while on “vacation.”</p><p>Like a shot, something small and pink came barreling out of the underbrush at top speed, giving Philza only a breath to brace himself as it bounced off the flat of his sword. Phil skidded a step or two back and barely had time to reorient himself when another clash against the flat of his sword sent him tumbling to his rear. Phil rolled quickly and got to his knees when he finally saw his assailant. About a yard away was a piglin youngling… or at least it looked like one. Instead of milky white eyes, this one had visible, rusty colored irises that burned. Hatred, fear, wrath; the glare Phil received from the little pig was enough to kill him a hundred times over if it could.</p><p>At the moment, the piglin could thankfully only rely on its brute strength and that was something Philza could manage. The little one snorted violently and came at him again with a scream, clawed hands reaching out to scratch. Phil dodged but wasn’t quite fast enough as a claw tore through his jacket sleeve and grazed his upper arm.</p><p>“Ugh!” Phil kept his sword at the ready and glanced to check the sticky mess that was his arm. “****”</p><p>The piglin child slowed for a second and sniffed at its claws. Eyes blown wide, it screamed, “BLOOD!” and the pain in Phil’s arm was momentarily forgotten. It could talk?</p><p>“You can speak?”</p><p>The piglin didn’t answer. Charging again, it continued to chant, “BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!”</p><p>Phil was ready this time and stepped to the side, bringing the pommel of his sword down on the piglin’s back and slamming it to the ground. Phil took a step back and looked over his handiwork. It was a quick sleight of hand, pulling a slime block out of his pack, but it was effective in keeping the crazy youngling from charging him again.</p><p>“BLOOD! BLOOD!” it howled and writhed, but was stuck in the green, oozy, block.</p><p>“Yeah, you’ll not be getting out of that anytime soon,” said Phil, maneuvering around carefully so not to get nicked by the piglin’s flailing claws. The older adventurer knelt down in front of the stuck creature and looked it over. It was very much a juvenile, not even close to an actual piglin’s height. Now that he could look it over better, Phil noticed that it also wasn’t too much like a piglin. Sure it had the claws and ears of one, but the stout nose was rounder than any piglin he had ever seen not to mention it had much smaller, less defined tusks. Its skin was also much more like a human’s as well as its eyes and the short, matted mop of pink hair. Perhaps a hybrid then. Phil had heard of such creatures but never had actually seen one.</p><p>“Interesting.”</p><p>The piglin grunted and snorted angrily. Phil looked up through the trees and saw that the sun was starting to head westward, the sky lilting with orange and golden hues.</p><p>“Looks like it’s going to be night soon,” Phil said out loud. He looked at the child who was glaring up at him. “I should be heading home.”</p><p>Phil stood up, readjusting his pack at his side, and began walking away. The angry grunting of the youngling had lessened to more concentrated grunts. Phil turned and saw the piglin trying to maneuver a free arm to a stick. Once it had the stick, it began poking holes in the slime block. Curious.</p><p>“You know,” said Phil, “I could just let you out.”</p><p>That got its attention. It still glared at him and mistrust radiated off of it like heat, but Phil couldn’t <em>not</em> notice the intelligence there. The ingenuity and logic that was just so <em>human.</em></p><p>Phil took a slow step forward, gauging the kid’s reaction. “If I let you out of there, I need to know you won’t attack me again. Can you nod your head if you understand?”</p><p>The kid glowered at him silently for a long time, but Phil waited. Something deep in his gut told him to wait and watch for… something. And he had learned long ago to listen to his gut.</p><p>“I’ll even throw in a free meal.”</p><p>Finally, the kid moved his head up and down and Phil couldn’t help the pleased grin on his face. Taking out a shovel, Phil was able to peel the kid off of the slime and to the side. He stilled and watched as the kid got up on their hands and feet and checked themselves over. As soon as it was done, it took a few steps back and watched Phil warily. Phil tilted his head in the direction of home.</p><p>“My place is this way. That meal offer still stands if you want to follow.”</p><p>At first, Philza didn’t think the kid would come along, but once he had gotten a few yards away he could hear footsteps follow him all the way home. And just like that, Phil had a dinner guest. After a few days and nights, the kid became a houseguest, and after a few months he, Phil discovered awkwardly one morning, became a resident. Phil discovered a lot of things about his new, young roommate in those months.</p><p>One, he could talk. The words were few and far between, but as the kid stayed on, they would talk about random things like Phil’s sword or potatoes.</p><p>Two, the kid really liked potatoes. REALLY liked them and Phil found he was a diligent farmer in training. The kid would wake up at the crack of dawn and start tending their meager garden, listening to all of Phil’s tips and tricks to keeping the potatoes alive. Come harvest time, the potatoes were large and practically perfect and the smile on the kid’s face was enough to warm a thousand dead stars.</p><p>Three, he didn’t have a name. After the first few weeks of calling him ‘kid’, Phil asked what the child’s name was. Turns out, the kid didn’t have a lot of memories. Just of voices and surviving and pain. Phil’s heart broke for him and they both finally settled on a name.</p><p>“How about Techno?” asked Phil.</p><p>“Tech-no?”</p><p>“Yeah. It sounds pretty cool.”</p><p>“I… guess.”</p><p>“Did you think of something else, Kid?” Phil asked kindly.</p><p>The kid didn’t answer but pointed to Phil’s sword. Phil glanced down at picked his sword up and pulled it from its sheath.</p><p>“Sword?”</p><p>The kid shook his head. “B-b-b…”</p><p>“Blade?” Phil finished.</p><p>The kid nodded.</p><p>“You want to be called Blade?”</p><p>He nodded again, to which Phil shrugged.</p><p>“Sure. How about Technoblade? That sounds pretty metal.”</p><p>The kid looked like he was thinking it over before nodding with a shrug to mimic Phil’s. The older man chuckled and ruffled the kid’s pink hair, earning a grunt and a scowl.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Technoblade.”</p><p>“… thanks.”</p><p> </p>
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